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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



THE TALISMAN 



BATTLE 



OTHER POEMS, 



A. O. GANYARD. 




ROCHESTER, N. Y.r 

W. S. KING, BOOK AND JOB PRINTKR, DEMOCUAT OFFICE, 
1804. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, 

By A. O. Ganyard, 

in tlie Clcrlv'8 Office of the Noithern Distiict of New York. 



2^ (> 01 



TO 

MY WORTHY AND ESTEEMED FRIEND, 

A. S. HOOKER, 

WHOSE FINE POETICAL PRODUCTIONS 

HAVE BEEN TO ME A SOURCE OF 

ENJOYMENT AND INSPIRATION, 

THIS VOLUME IS 

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 



§., §, ^'Awm'fs, 



P 11 E F A C E . 

After being discharged from the service of 
the United States, and yet unable to engage in 
any business pursuits, on account of the severity 
of my wounds, the time unoccupied by other 
studies was devoted to composition — the result 
of which, in this little volume, is submitted to 
the public. 

The Poem from which the volume receives 
its title, is founded on facts which came under 
my own observation, and descriptive of scenes 
in which I actively participated during a term 
of service exceeding fifteen months in the Army 
of the Potomac. 



A. O. G. 



Rochester, N. Y. 

June 1, 18G4. 



1* 



CONTENTS. . 

THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

Page 
introductory, . . . . .9 

i. the parting, . . ... 12 

ii. the march, 

iii. the battle, .... 
iv. the ambulance train, 



TI. THE TRUST, 
VII. DARK DAYS, 



16 
18 
37 



V. Rosalie's letter, ... 45 



49 
51 



53 



VIII. THE TRUST FULFILLED, . . .54 

CONCLUSION, ..... 

ARROW FLIOnTS OF SONG, 



harp-strings OF THE HEART, 

THE ANGEL OF SLEEP, 

COME TO THE WOODS, 

NOVEMBER, . . . . • 

MY MOTHER, .... 

TWILIGHT ON THE POTOMAC, . 

SHE WAS EIGHT AND I WAS TEN, 

JUSTICE, . . . . • 

LINES WITH A BOUQUET, . . , . .94 



63 

79, 
78 
80 
84 
86 
88 
91 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

IS THE VALLET, OVER THERE, . . 97 
TOLNEY, ...... 102 

THE soldier's EVENING PRAYER, . . 104- 

IN MEMORIAM, F. B. W., .... 106 

" PEACE, BE STILL," . . . . 108 
BATTLE HYMN, . . . . .111 
LAUGHTER, . . . . .113 
THE KISS THAT MY LOVE GAVE ME, , < 119 





mxt MixVxmm i)f §iitttc» 

, AR is the wildest fmmer of ro- 
inances, 
^ -^^ AVhose name 's recorded in the 
book of Time, 
And with the keen points of his bloody 
lances, 
Writes tragic facts, than fiction more 
sublime. 

For every blood- drop in the crimson billow. 
Which sweeps the plain where battle 
rages wild, 
A tear-drop falls upon a distant pillow, 
Where mourns the maid, and weeps the 
orphan child. 



10 THE TA LISMA N OF BA TTLE 

Each cannon-ball that reaps a road to ii;Iory, 
Eacli bullet-hole that lets a spirit out, 

But forms a page in some unwritten story, 
AYliich no pen e'er siiall tell the world 
about. 



Theie 's not a corpse falls on the field of 
battle, 
But lies athwart some sun of hapi>iness, 
Causing upon a distant heart to settle 
A shadow deep, which never shall grow 
less. 



There 's not a sohlier but some fund one 
cares for, 
But has a corner in some distant heart, 
But whom some lips breathe frequent, ear- 
nest jirayers for, 
But some one thinks of while the tear- 
drops start. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 11 

The beamino; stars npon the flags that lead 
them, 
The shining stripes of blended flame and 
snow, 
Tell tales, and we shall hear the angels read 
them, 
When NOW is lost in the dim long ago. 

Dark AVar turns souls out to be damned or 
sainted ; 
This is not reckoned when the fight is 
planned ; 
But let us turn to where is represented 
A scene which all may see and under- 
stand — 
A scene by War in crimson colors painted, 
And illy copied by an unskilled hand. 



12 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 



%. murmurs of the woodland 

brook, 
Were mingling with the evening 

breeze, 
Which in its passage softly shook 
The foliage of the autumn trees, 
And touched to melody the keys 
Of nature's instruments of sound ; 
While in rich harmony witli these 
Mingled the notes of warblers round, 
All plumed for flight to lands where 

flowers abound. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 13 

Along the border of the brook 
A mourning maiden wandered slow ; 
The roses had her cheeks forsook, 
And lilies bloomed there white as snow ; 
The tears of grief had ceased to flow, 
Because the fountains had run drj, 
Or were bj weeping drained so low 
That none now escaped her mournful eye, 
To tell of grief which but with death might 
die. 



Her slender form was frail and weak, 
Yet beautiful indeed was she ; 
The sweeping lashes touched her cheek. 
Her eyes were dark as dark could be. 
And on her lips you just could see 
The slightest tinge of rose-hue fair. 
While flowed unbound, profuse and free, 
Down o'er her soft, white shoulders bare. 
The curling billows of her midnight hair. 
2 



14: THE TALlSAfAN OF BATTLE. 

She paused beneath the willowy boughs 
Of an old elm tree standing near, 
Where but last night, her lover's vows 
Were poured into her listening ear, 
Aa stood her young heart still to hear, 
While one strong arm was circled round 
The form of her he held most dear ; 
The light breeze listened the sweet sound, 
Soft fell the moonbeams as on holy ground. 

He had his soldier trappings on, — 
The burnished sword hung by his side. 
And flashed as ever and anon 
'Mong swaying boughs down poured a 

tide 
Of moonlight, while his promised bride, 
A shining braid of her own hair 
Child-like about the bright hilt tied, 
And whispered, — "William, leave it there 
Till it shall stains of war's red dew-drops 

bear. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 15 

" You will be brave, I know you will, 
And when this sword shines in the fight, 
This dark braid bound upon it still, 
Let it remind you of this night, 
And of the vows which here we plight. 
And when at length the war is done, 
Let THIS, presented, prove your right 
To claim the heart which you have won, 
And hand in hand through life we'll jour- 
ney on." 

But now upon the light wind comes 
The low and distance-mellowed sound 
Of martial trumpets and of drums ; 
Tlie maiden kneels upon the ground ; 
Low murmured accents float around ; 
Her hands arc clasped in prayerful woe ; 
Utt'rance distinct one sentence found ; 
" Protect him, God !" then bowed she low, 
And would have wept, but tears refused to 
flow. 



16 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

The bugled music fainter grew, 
And fainter, and the drum's far beat 
Kept dying, dying, as the few 
Brave soldiers with impatient feet, 
Moved out the winding village street, 
And round the hill, and far away. 
Till echoes heard no sound t' repeat, 
But silent on the hill-sides lay. 
And fell asleep with that bright autumn 
day. 

II. 

0££AL]I» we this gallant, warlike few 
In all their winding path pursue, 
"With weary feet in tedious tramp. 
Through skirmish, battle, march and cam])? 
Tell how they lessened day by day, 
While graves, like mile-stones, marked their 
way ; 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 17 

How brave thej were, how firm they stood, 
Where Battle stalked knee-deep in blood, 
With broad blade dripping wet and red, 
And plumes of banners on his head ? 
ITo, let us turn one year-leaf o'er, 
By bullets torn, and wet with gore, 
ISTor read the dark and dreadful words. 
Inscribed by bayonet points and swords. 
It might be well to pause and tell 
Of those who bravely fighting fell. 
In that dark year of awful deeds, 
Of which no patriot tearless reads ; 
But no, we're forced to pass it by. 
Its deeds let unrecorded lie ; 
For on the next red leaf, behold, 
A bloodier tale waits to be told. 



2* 



18 TEE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 



III. 



I WAS tlie hoi J hour of evening, 
And the western sky was bright, 

As the sunbeams were dissolving 
In a mellow mist of light. 

And far away to eastward 
Dim groups of shadows met,' 

And above the earth 'gan peeping 
To see if the sun had set. 

And the Angel of the Twilight 
Saw the deejDening shadows win, 

As the golden scale kept sinking, 
That had the sunshine in. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 19 

And the drops of dew were rounding • 

In the lily's silver cup, 
As the sunset's rosy fingers 

Shut the diamond portals up. 



It had been a day of battle, 

And king Death had sat at feast, 

Since the streaking sunshine glittered 
On the lintels of the east. 



Sword and sword had met with dashing- 
Bayonet and bayonet crossed — 

Hill tops had been charged and taken ;- 
The foe rallied — they were lost. 

Scarcely on the field of battle 

Had contended a brigade, 
But had some fierce charge resisted, 

Or a charge more fiercely made. 



20 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

While the firm earth jarred and trembled, 
'^Neath the tramp of hosts combined, — 

A line of gleaming steel in front, 
And of flashing eyes behind. 



Swarms of bullets all the air filled 
"With a wild, bewildering hiss, 

Though scarce one found living target 
Where a hundred flew to miss. 



Howling balls from gaping cannon 
Plowed deep furrows in the ground, 

And went through the charging columns 
With a glancing plunge and bound. 

While the tear of parting sinews, 
And the crash of breaking bones, 

Mixed with prayers and oaths, were car- 
ried 
On a mighty flow of groans. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 21 

Beat of drums and wail of trmn]3ets, 
Neigh of steeds and shouts of men, 

In the dark air wildly mingled, 
As they broke and formed again, 



And the bleeding, moaning wounded, 
On the red earth crawled about, 

Seeking shelter in the trenches 

"Which the cannon balls scooped out. 



And the trundling wheels of cannon. 
As they bounded o'er the plain. 

Broke the limbs and crushed the corpses 
Of the newly fallen slain. 

While the empty musket, lying 

By the soldier on the sand. 
And the crimson-bladed saber. 

In the dying hero's hand, 



22 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

Under hoof and wheel were broken, 
Like the brittle bouglis of pines, 

And the wounded saw their coming, 
And with feeble hands made signs ; 



As their pale lips faintly moving 
Just breathed out a feeble sound, 

Which, amid the jar and tumult, 
Of this onward rush was drowned, 

And the great wheels thundered o'er them, 
And the steeds' hoofs crushing fell, 

As their prayers for safety ended 
In a pain-extorted yell. 

While the soldiers rushing onward. 

To the rapid roll of drums, 
Heeded not the jarring thunder, 

Nor the shell and bullet hums, 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 23 

But 'mid waving swords and banners, 
Caught their leader's guiding form, 

And with cheer on cheer they followed, 
As he galloped through the storm* 



And the living filled the openings, 
And the torn ranks formed anew, 

Where went down the mangled hundreds, 
As the iron tide swept through, 



And the fallen flags were lifted. 
And each dying bearer's eye 

Brightened as he saw them flying, 
And the roaring charge went by. 

And in feebleness half rising, 
Many a wounded soldier pale. 

Watched the progress of the battle, 
As its thunders filled the rale. 



24 THE TALIS3IAN OF BATTLE. 

And thej oft to eager questions — 
As th' unsteady conflict veered— 

Told their feebler, dying comrades, 
In the mingled fight who cheered, 



And each soldier's eye grew brighter, 
As the banner streamed in sight, 

Which his own brigade was beariDg 
In the red front of the fight. 



But anon they saw them waver — 
Struggling for the hill's red croM^n- 

And their hearts kept rising, falling, 
As the flag moved up and down. 

Till a horseman wildly galloped 
O'er the field, into the smoke. 

When at once a sound of trumpets, 
O'er the din of conflict broke. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 25 

Sadly thinned, but not disordered, 
Down the hill, and o'er the plain, 

Slowly moved the loyal army. 
Through a storm of leaden rain. 



Some assist their fallen comrades, 
"Who, beside them, charging fell,- 

'Hid the gun-born fog of battle, — 
Struck by hissing shot or shell ; 



But the flying, crashing missiles 
In a roaring torrent pour, 

And. the wounded are re-wounded, 
And the torn dead mangled more, 

Till by faint success elated, 

" Forward !" all the bugles sound ; 
Glancing bayonet lines are levelled, 

AikI a loud shout echoes round. 
3 



26 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

Down the lull they press together, 
And across the bloody field, 

Then up the hills behind which 
Are the loyal hosts concealed. 



Will no angel bend to warn them 
Of the unsuspected wile ? — 

Victory every eye has blinded, 
With her bright, deceitful smile. 

Lo, at once the hills are shaken 
By a mighty earthquake roar, 

And the shot rain down upon them. 
While the clouds rise up before. 

Booming terrors burst and thicken ; 

Fa,8ter flash the dense-ranked guns, 
And fair Freedom's watching Goddess 

Smiles upon her loyal. sons, 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 27 

As the host of maddened foeinen, 
On our line of lightning pours, 

And the red hills rock and tremble, 
'Neath a jarring flood of roars. 



Through the clouds shine cannon blazes, 
And the crowded thunders swell, 

Till the flame-wrapped van of battle 
Seems the unwalled side of hell, 



And the ranks of banded foemen. 

Rush on like ocean surge, 
But are mangled, torn and blasted, 

As they near the flaming vei'ge. 

Now they seem a moment gaining, 
And their fiendish shouts grow loud. 

As the front ranks are half hidden. 
In the rolling flame and cloud ; 



28 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

But the flying hailstones thicken, 
With the jarring boom and crash, 

And the polished bayonets glitter 
In the angry cannon flash, 



While the front ranks crumble faster 
Than their places can be filled, 

Till is formed a bloody rampart 
Of the wounded and the killed. 



The gunner wields the lanyard. 

And the rammer's sponge runs dry. 

And the canister and grape-shot 
In a reaping tempest fly. 

" FoKWAPwD ! Forward !" sounds the order. 
And the mad ranks forward leap 
Over piles of fallen comrades, 
Where the blood runs ankle deep. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 29 

But the storm of iron holds them, 
Saving wliere the fierce array 

Wildly rushes on the center, 
Where the cannoniers give way. 



With drawn swords they fall back slowly, 
While with dark and angry frown, 

Thrusts from bayonets they parry, 
As they strike the foremost down ; 

Till one battery's guns are captured, 
And the rest are falling back, 

While the shouts and cheers grow louder 
As the cannon roars grow slack, 

Till upleaping on a sudden, 

In a long unbroken line. 
To the rearward of the cannons, 

Burnished bayonets brightly shine. 



30 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

" ChAKGE ! CHARGE ! DOUBLE QUICK, MEN ! 
FORWARD !" 

Falls like thunder on their ears, 
And the trumps and drums repeat it, 
'Mid a mighty roll of cheers, 



And the ground begins to tremble, 
As their swift feet rise and fall. 

To the music of the drum beat, 
And the bugle's brazen call. 



^Mong the guns they rush with fury, 
And before them sternly close, 

While their bayonets ring and rattle 
'Mong the bayonets of their foes. 

Thrusting, parrying, clubbing, warding. 
Thrust for thrust and blow for blow, 

Hearts are pierced and breasts torn open ; 
Dashed-out brains fly to and fro. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 31 

Not a sound but groans and curses, 
And the clash of meeting steel, 

While some dead and wounded fall not, 
But, as sways the dense crov/d, reel. 



Here and there with bloody weapons, 
Through each other, foemen lie, 

And they moan and curse each other, 
While in agony they die. 



Eut the loyal army wavers, 
And the centre almost breaks, 

Where yon trodden, bloody hill-top, 
'ITeath the fiercest battle, shakes. 

But they stand the onset bravely, 
Till they see their leader fall. 

When a fierce and sudden terror 
Quickly seizes on them all, 



32 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

And they're on the point of flying, 
When a youth with lifted blade 

In one hand, in one the banner, 
Forward plunges, undismayed. 



"With one rapid glance cast backward, 
Cries he in this hour of need, 

" Up, boys ! KALLT KOUND THE BANNER ! 

Follow, chaeging, wheke I lead !" 



With a shout of reassurance, 
They in fiercer combat close. 

For a nobler, braver leader, 

Ne'er led patriots 'gainst their foes. 

Thrusting, parrying and smiting, 
In succession quick he stands. 

His example fiercely followed 
By the brave men he commands, 



THE TALISMAN' OF BATTLE. 33 

And his briirht sword shines like \m\\i- 
ning, 

As it cleaves the battle air, 
And around the Idlt tied firmly^ 

Is a Iraid of raven hair. 



But a foeman's broad sword hissing, 
Comes a-glancing down his blade, 

And the bright lock rudely severed, 
On the bloody ground is laid, 

And his dark eye fiercely flashes, 
As they tread it 'neath their feet, 

"While his breast heaves like a billow, 
To his wild heart's furious beat. 



Forward, like a wounded tiger, 
Keeping guard before her young, 

In their faces with defiance, 

Crying, " Follow me !" he sprung. 



34 THE TALISMAN' OF BATTLE. 

Steel from steel tore sjDarks and flashes, 
And his brave men closed up well, 

Till the prize he saw, sprang forward, 
And grasped it as he fell, 



While before the furious onset 
Of the maddened men he led, 

Was the foe's strong centre broken, 
And with panic seized, they fled. 

* * -x- * * * 

Bugles sound the cannon forward. 
And they roll uj) to the hills. 

And a storm of iron missiles 
All the air of battle fills. 

Furious shells keep bursting, bursting, 
And the shot keep raining on. 

And scattered dead and wounded men, 
The falling fall upon. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 35 

Eiiined wrecks of broken cannon ; 

Wounded steeds that flounce about ; 
Horsemen overrunning footmen. 

Add confusion to the rout, 



As in mingled wild disorder, 

With more speed than is their wont. 

All strive fiercely to be foremost. 
In the rearward-rushing front. 



But amid the smoking chaos 
Of the roaring overthrow, 

Comes a pause in the swift progress 
Of the fast retreating foe. 

Hark ! a numerous reinforcement, 
With loud shouts the distance fills, 

As they catch the scent of battle. 
As it floats beyond the hills. 



36 THE TALISMAN OF BA TTLE. 

Back there rolls a hearty answer, 
While their steps the flying check, 

And the beaten, routed army. 
Is but just preserved from wreck ; 



And the fierce pursuit abandoned. 
Gives them leisure to reform. 

And revive the waning fury 
Of the crimson battle-storm. 



And the dark red fight raged fiercely, 
And the dense clouds mounted hie-h. 

Till the day at length was ended, 
And the sun bade earth good-bye. 

When the warring hosts seemed weary 
Of the bloody work of death, 

And the cannons ceased to thunder. 
And the battle paused for breath. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 37 



IV. 



Kk stars in the skj began burning, 
Cool winds did the green branches toss, 
And night in the far west was turning 
The gold of tlie sunset to dross. 



And as the destruction-toned booming, 
Grew sullenly less till it ceased, 

The disk of the red moon was looming 
Above the dark clouds in the east. 



Fresh cannon with rumble and rattle, 
Moved up to each dead-covered height. 

Prepared to renew the fierce battle. 
If fled not the foeman bv night, 
4 



38 THE TxiLlSMAN OF BAITLE. 

And when tho loud battle's alarm was 
All hushed, every hoof still, and wheel. 

Sleep came to the war-tired armies, 
And dropped on their eye-lids her seal. 



But not with the battle's commotion, 
The groans of the wounded were still, 

But yet like the far roar of ocean. 
They rose up from valley and hill. 

And many were busily caring 

For those who were writhing in pain, 

And on the stained litters were bearing 
Them back to the ambulance train. 



Then as the dim light of the lantern 

Shone out from each corpse-loaded slope, 

His eyes would each suffering man turn, 
And smile with a Ilickering hope ; 



THE TALISilAN OF BATTLE. 39 

And as tbo deep shadows grew deeper, 
The train with its murmuring load 

Moved out, startling many a sleeper, 
As it rattled along the rough road. 



While the clouds grooving darker and 
thicker, 

Eolled upward in front of the moon. 
And stray beams came down with a flicker, 

On the blade of each guarding dragoon. 



Tiien red streams of lightning poured, 
flashing 
'Mong the folds of the storm's sable 
shroud, 
And deep, heavy thunders came crashing 
Through the bars of each dark prison 
cloud. 



40 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

And as sword-cuts and shell-rents kept 
bleeding, 

And strength for endurance grew less, 
Each the cries of his comrades unheeding, 

Was lost in his own deep distress ; 

And moving thus on all a-shiver, 

With the cold and the wet of thft rain, 

They called upon God to deliver 

Their souls from their bodies in pain. 

And anon the train paused, and the smart- 
ing 

And aching would somewhat abate, 
But the far ahead noise of its starting, 

Gave feelings which none can relate ; 

And deep oaths and curses were spoken, 
And groans which but few could restrain. 

As the sore ends of bones that were broken, 
Kept bumping together with pain ; 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 41 

And as the torn tendons did quiver, 

And the trickling blood left a dark stain, 

Groans rose like the roar of a river. 
Along the whole ambulance train. 

And cries arose, pleading and prayerful, 
While extreme torture wrung the slow 
tear, 
" Oh, driver ! for God's sake, drive careful ! 

Be careful ! oh, driver ! oh, dear !" 
While the drops of rain filled the whole air 
full, 
And the moan of the night wind was 
drear. 

But dripping wet, tired and worried, — 
The wounded in plight scarcely worse, — 

The drivers on angrily hurried, 

Still answering their cries with a curse, 

Till many an ambulance carried 

The pale, pulseless freight of a hearse. 
4* 



42 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE, 

I heard a low moaning and crying, 
From the lips of the one next to me, 

And I bent, for I thought he was dying, 
And felt of his low pulse to see. 

But his dark eyes he dreamily lifted, 

And whispered, " Oh, God ! let me die !" 

While the dark storm-clouds tumbled and 
drifted, 
Like ranges of hills through the sky. 

My own pains a moment forgetting, 
I gazed in his face, nor did speak. 

For I fancied his life's sun was setting. 
And its last Hush was red on bis cheek. 

" Oh, give me some water ! some water ! 

Oh, give me some watee !" he said. 
As his flesh with the fever burned hotter. 

And his dark cheeks flushed deeper with 
red. 



2'HE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 43 

And with low moans and cries most dis- 
tressing, 

lie turned liini his comrades between, 
And soon to his parched lips was pressing 

The mouth of his empty canteen. 

And long did he eagerly suck it, 
And cried, when exhausted it fell, 

" Oh, God ! for one drop from tlie bucket 
That 's dripping at home in the well !" 

A soldier, then passing by, halted, 
As I raised the canteen o'er my head, 

And quick from his saddle he vaulted. 
And off to the river brink sped. 

And filled it, and hastily brought it. 
Then mounted and moved on his way ; 

'Twas a good deed, a good man that 
wrought it, 
"God bless liim," was all I could say. 



M THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

My comrado's fierce thirst was abated, 
And. when the train came to a halt, 

A story to me he related, 

Stretched out beneath heaven's dark vanlt. 

A fire beside us was kindled, 

And the storm wliich had trumpeted high, 
To a calm in the dark midnight dwindled, 

And the stars reappeared in the sk3^ 

The blood from his deep wound kept flow- 
ing 
And as weaker and weaker he grew, 

His cloak from his shoulders back throwing, 
Erom 'neath it a letter he drew, 

And holding it forth, he said, " Take it. 

It came when the battle begun, 
And then Td no leisure to break it, 

Quick, read it, or I shall be gone !" 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 45 

Then slowly and painfnllj turning, 
And bending as far as I might, 

Toward where the dim fire was bm'ning, 
I read by the flickering light. 



V. 



^TAIS shine nightly, 
Just as brightly. 
As they used to shine 
"When your dear arms clasped me tightly, 
And your lips pressed mine. 

\ " But I'm lonely, 

And they only 
Bring the scenes now past, 
Which by angel memory shown me, 
Make the tears fall fast. 



40 THE TALISMulN OB' BATTLE. 

" By the window 
Here I liDger, 
While the church bells chime, 
And the clock's i evolving finger 
Marks the flight of time. 

"And the night birds 
Chant the bright words 
Of their unwritten song, 
And the boughs, by breezes light stirred, 
Pour sweet notes along. 

" Bright as ever. 
Star-beams quiver 
'Mong the clear drops of dew 
On the willows by the river 

Where I 've walked with you, 

"And I'm dreaming 
As they're streaming 
All the long branches through, 
And I'm wishing that the seeming 
May be real and true. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 47 

" Oh ! I wonder 
When the thnnder 
Of the war will cease, 
And the nation prosper nnder 
The bright smile of peace. 

" Dark and fearful, 
Sad and tearful, 
May the strife yet be, 
But our hearts will be more cheerful 
When our land is free ; 

"And though weary 
Sad and dreary, 
Is my life so lone, 
Yet I 'd comfort thee and cheer thee 
As becomes thine own ; 

"And when twilight 
Makes the sky bright, 
I will kneel and pray 
That what -s my light may be thy light. 
And guide thee alway. 



48 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

"And when flashing 
Blades sto}) clashing, 
And the wild strife is o'er, 
And the raging waves of j)assion 
Are at rest once more, 

" "We, united 
And delighted, 
In the bright, green dell, — 
Love, the only guest invited — 

In a cottage home may dwell." 



THE TALISMAN- OF BATTLE. 49 



iS^ I turued to my companion, 
And the tear-tracks down his cheek 
Told a more heart-touching story 
Than his quivering lips could speak. 

But he grasped my right hand firmly, 
While he drew me close to him, 

And he whispered, " I am going. 
Yes, ray lamp of life is dim." 

" Listen !" and he drew me nearer, 
" There is something I would say ; 

Something with which I 'd entrust you, 
Ere my soul has passed away. 



50 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE, 

"Dwells a dark-baired maiden, far from 
Where war's banners gnily flaunt, 

In a cheerful little cottage 

'Monsc the mountains of Vermont. 



" She is fairer than the morning, 
And as pure as evening's blush, 

Or the dew-drops which your footsteps, 
From the blooms of morning brush. 



"And I 've something I would send h.er, 
Oh, I prize it more than gold ; 

'Tis the little braid I spoke of. 
In the story that I told. 



" Tell her 'mid war's awful rattle, 

When the ground was piled with dead. 

That this dark braid won the battle. 
And the foemen from it fled. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 51 

"Tell I'or for my sake to keep it, 

And when she is laid to rest, 
Let it sbine amid the garland 

Of \6^nte roses on her breast."' 

lie vras silent, and I took it, 
'Twas the last I heard him say. 

For tliey took me on a litter then, 
And carried me away, 

As the mellow waves of sunshine 
On the coast of morning rolled, 

And ihoi east was dashed all over 
Wffili the shining spray of gold. 

YII. 

^yiTII others whose flesh had been 

iiiangled and rent. 
Each a suffering object of pity, 
They bore me away to a hospital tent. 
And from thence to the Capitol City, 



52 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

There I found many friends who a,s sisters 
were dear, 
'Mong the lofty as well as the lowl}^, 
And the day-cogs that fill the great wheel 
of the year, 
Turned the pinions of destiny slowly. 

Till long weeks and months had dragged 
tediously by, 
As if bound by a cumbersome fetter ; 
When a mother, far off, 'neath the clear 
northern sky, 
Kead these simple lines traced in a letter : 

"The war is not yet done ; 
High rolls the sulphur cloud ; 
From morn till set of sun 
The battle-shout rings loud. 
Scores of brave men, each day, 
Snatching one parting kiss, 
Go forth to join the fray ; 
Yet, notwithstanding this, 

Mother, I'm coming Iiome. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 5'3 

" As one long year ago, 
Wlien my sad heart did burn, 
I went to nieet the foe, 
Look not for ray return, 
It was not mine to share 
Mars' favoring smile thus long, 
So, leaning on a pair 
Of crutches, firm and strong, 
Mother, I'm coming home. 

" This may appear quite hard, 
Eut sure I'll not complain. 
When hosts are deeper scarred. 
And hosts of others slain. 
No, I will give no place 
To murmuring on my part, 
But with a smiling face, 
And with a grateful heart, 

Motlier, I'm coming home." 



6* 



54 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE, 



VIII. 



1 BIB not forget the low cot far away, 
ISTor tlie braid that was left to mj 
keeping ; 
I thought of that soldier ai)d maiden Ly 
day, 
And dreamed of theai often when sleep- 
ing. 

Till on a still day when the earth lay asleep 

In the arms of the Indian summer, 
I passed where the echoes from many a 
steej), 
Long before mocked the beat of the 
drummer ; 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 55 

And where a green slope in the warm sun- 
shine basked,. 
1 paused for a moment, to ponder ; 
Y/lien a peasant near bj, to a question I 
asked, 
Said, "Tiiat is the cottage, up yonder !'' 

And tears down my sad cheeks came roll- 
ing anon. 
From the fountains which grief was un- 
binding, 
As tlie carriage rolled slowly and steadily 
on. 
Up the road that was rough, steep and 
winding. 

And nearing the cottage I paused 'ncath a 
tree, 
"Where the afternoon sunbeams were 
slanting ; 
And the notes of a dirge came floating to 
me, 
Which a band of sad mourners were 
chantinir. 



50 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

I asked not a question, but passed with the 
rest 
To the beautiful coffin of rosewood ; 
The corpse looked as sw^eet witli hands 
crossed on its breast, 
As an innocent l)abe in repose would. 

8he died with a prayer, and a smile on her 
lips, 
And her brow was unmarked e'en by one 
line, 
And the silvery shade of death's fatal 
eclipse. 
Served only to mellow the sunshine. 

Read the plate on the coliin, " Young Eosa- 
LIE Clare, 

The heart-broken victim of sorrow. 
Who fell asleep here to awaken up there, 

To a blissful, eternal to-morrow." 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 57 

O, angels of light in the City of Bliss, 
What mortal, here gazing, could blame 

yon, 

For taking so fair a young angel as this, 
'Keath the arch of the emerald rainbow. 

I reached forth my hand to the wreath on 
her breast, 
The wish of the soldier was granted ; 
Then out 'iieath the autumn-dyed maples 1 
passed, 
Long ago in the cottage yard planted ; 

And the songs of the birds, and the 
zephyr's low sigh, 
And the sweet silver sound of the foun- 
tains, 
Seemed hushed as her guardian angel 
passed by, 
To her home 'mong the heavenly moun- 
tains. 



58 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 

Oh ! what shall support in its jiulgaient- 
ward patli, 
The crime-loaded conscience of Treason ; 
Or how shall it stand 'neath the fierce, hell- 
hot wrath, 
When Justice demandeth a reason. 

Oh, God ! how these red-handed allies of 
Crime, 
Make playthings of lives and affections ; 
What false lights they raise on the rock- 
coast of Time, 
All luring in fatal directions. 

Can purity sanction such direful deeds. 
As make hell's monarch fearful and 
jealous ; 

Or approvingly smile when a patriot bleeds, 
Or to bow to such tyrants compel us. 



THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 59 

Oh ! no, the great Anglo-American race', 
' Shall yet fill the forwardmost station ; 
And for traitorous souls I believe ample 
space 
Is reserved in the gulf of damnation. 

And our Eagle shall flap his broad wings 
vs^hen he hears 
Of their well-deserved downward re- 
moval, 
And the stars on our Flag in their crystal- 
line spheres, 
Shall beam a soft glow of approval. 



xx&V! ^ligMsi H ^me^. 



HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. C3 




%\\t ^\\x\)-3ix\\\p 0( the ^uxt 



^^^HERE 'S a secret chamber in every 
'^^ heart 

Where heaven-sent minstrels stand, 
And a harp is there with tender 
strings 
Which quiver at their command. 



And each as it quivers an impulse gives 
To the heart in its own soft way, ■ 

Eut Conscience touches the leading string, 
And tells us which to obey. 



64 HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 

And 'tis -^'ell 'tis so, for the door of the 
heart 

At times may be entered in 
By the Evil One, who the strings will touch, 

And an impulse give to sin. 

The finest string in this sacred harp 
Was made in the courts above. 

And tuned by the finger of God and sent 
To the minstrel whose name is Love. 

And whenever this finest of chords is 
touched 

By the tip of his silver wing, 
It sends a thrill to the inmost licart 

And opens a bubbling spring. 

And as quietly forth from this spjing doth 
fiow 

A current of nectar sweet. 
The heart in the bosom doth rise and glow 

Witli a soft and irenial heat. 



ilARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 65 

And a soft condactor the genial glow 

To the twinkling eye imparts, 
And a rosy flush from the germ below, 

To bloom on the cheek upstarts. 



'Tis felt by all but 'tis sweetest to one 
Whose bosom is free from guile, 

The maiden feels it most when she basks 
In the light of her lover's smile ; 



And tlie youth the most when he cazeth Ions: 
In the eyes of the laughing maid, 

Within whose bosom he knows for him 
Is the self-same harp-string played. 

And the motlier most when she folds her 

child,— 

Her only child, to her breast, 

And sees the smile which his face lights up, 

In his angel-guarded rest. 
6* 



QQ HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 

And the old man most when be takes the 
Book 
And reads of the other land, 
While he knows bj his frame that is bend- 
ing low, 
His departure is near at hand. 

And here in this chamber, all sweetly tuned, 

Is another, a secret string, 
Which giveth a musical sound wlien struck 

By Memory's angel wing. 

It scarcely is heard in the heart of youth, 
And its tone is less sweet than when 

'Tis struck in the heart of the aged man, 
With his three score years and ten. 

It giveth a flush to his faded cheek, 

And a light to his failing eye. 
As it carries him back to the golden days 

When the hopes of his youth ran high ; 



HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 67 

He thinks of the home of his childliood, 
then, 
Of the tree that sheltered his head, 
With branches which over the cottage 
door, 
And over the window spread. 

He thinks of the blossoms whose eyes did 
shine, 
In the rays of the evening still, 
As in beantiful clusters they decked the 
vine 
That clung to the window sill. 

He thinks of the walks in the moonlio-ht, 
too. 
With his love o'er the blooming lea, 
And the warm embrace, and the warmer 
kiss, 
'JSTeath the boughs of the hawthorn tree. 



68 HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 

And he tliinks of the beautiful garland, too, 

Of flowers so bright and gay, 
"Which circled her brow like a rainbow fair. 

On the morn of the bridal day. 

And the bright panorama goes gliding bj, 
Till the hand of the minstrel stops, 

When it vanishes quite from his liailing eye, 
And the gray old curtain drojDS. 

And here in tiiis hall is a coarser strins:, 
Whose sorrowful tones are low ; 

It giveth a mournful dirge when struck 
By the raven wing of Woe. 

And the heart like a drum to the tune 
keeps time, 
With a low and measured beat, 
While the funeral train of its prostrate 
hopes 
Hoves out through the shadowy street ; 



HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 69 

And a silvery stieam flows softly fortb, 
From a fuunt in the bosom bid, 

And escapes in drops from beneath the 
edge 
Of the silk-friiiged curtain lid. 

And it flows ofttimes till the fount is dry, 
And the roses, which once were red, 

On the fall round cheeks of the mourner, 
die, 
And lilies bloom there instead. 

'Tis keenest felt by the mourning one. 
As lie stands by the open grave. 

Or under the boughs of the willow tree, 
"Wliich over the green mound wave. 

Or else as he closes the sightless eyes 
Of tlie one loved dearest of all, 

And consigns the frozen and soulless clay, 
To the winding-sheet and pall. 



70 HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 

And here is a minstrel whose crown is a 
star, 
She is fair and her name is Hope, 
Her robes are decked with flowers that 
bloom 
On fancy's sunniest slope. 



The chord she sweeps is oftener swept 
Than the other harp-chords there, 

And with each of the others it somids in 
tune. 
When struck by the minstrel fair. 



And there's scarcely an hour but the heart 
of youth 
Beats time to its harmony tone. 
With love sometimes, and with grief some- 
times, 
And sometimes all alone. 



HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 71 

Its sweet tones all to the future flow, 
And the minstrel is always there, 

To touch the chord with the lightest touch. 
When the heart kneels down in prayer. 

And the silvery cadence floats away, 
O'er the deep dark stream of death, 

Till the song by echoes is sung to sleep, 
On the heavenly hills of faith. 

But this chord is mortal and only sounds 
In the valley of death and sin ; 

The harp in the heart of the angel form, 
Will have no hope-chord in. 



72 THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 




WAS evening's solemn lioiir, 

The zepliyr's wings were furled, 
Kor fanned each leafy bower, 

Where dangling grape-vines 
curled. 



The little birds wej-e still, 

In upland and in dale. 
All save the whip-po-will, 

And clear-toned nightingale. 

The moon was sailing high, 
"Where late had soared the sun, 

And through the evening shy, 
The stars peeped, one by one. 



THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 73 

And as those sky-lamps burned, 
Bright as they burned of old, 

Upon their hinges turned 
The gates of pearl and gold ; 

And from them slowly flew 

An angel robed in white. 
And down through ether blue, 

Earthward she turned her flight, 



Bearing a silver cup, 

Beneath her robes hid deep, 
"Wherein were treasured up 

The soft, sweet seeds of sleep. 

Slow did this angel fly, 

Through skies of evening clear. 
Unseen by mortal eye. 

Unheard by mortal ear ; 

7 



74 THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 

When with such smiling look. 
As she alenc conld wear, 

From 'neath her robes she took, 
The Clip deep hidden there ; 

And cloud-like floating slow. 
The earth great distance o'er, 

"Widely she 'gan to sow 
The soft, sweet seeds she bore. 

Gently they fell as dew, 

Or as the music sweet 
Of lark, when far from view, 

His notes he doth repeat. 

Where'er a creature dwelt, 

She sailed on level wing, 
And each her influence felt, 
Lord, peasant, prince and kiiig. 



I 



THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 75 

The babe sank to repose, 

Its mother to relieve, 
Its little eves did close, 

As daisies close at eve. 



The mother's weary lid, 
Feeling a pressure slight. 

Sank gently down and hid 
The orb beneath from sisht. 



The queen's soft lids they pressed, 
Whose brow had borne a crown ; 

Wljose form was laid to rest 
On beds of eider down. 



The soldier on the field 

Where honor had been won, 

As hosts with spear and shield 
Fought 'neath the setting sun ; 



76 THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 

The sailor on the sea, 



Whose ship with swelling sail 
Moved onward light and free, 
Before the gentle gale ; 



Tiie convict in his cell ; 

The plow-boy on his conch ; 
In slumbers gently fell, 

Beneath the soothing touch. 



Then with her wings unfurled, — 
Bearing her empty cup, — 

She viewed the slumbering world, 
And smiling started up. 



And like a bird plumed white, 
'Gan round and round to wheel, 

Leaving the morniug light 
The closed lids to unseal. 



THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 77 

Thus she each eve doth go, 
From spring till spring again, 

The slumber-seeds to sow 
Amono; the sons of men. 



7S COME TO THE WOODS. 



(j\ U ! come with me if you love to 
wander, 
Away to the woods in the distance 
yonder ; 

Away where the wild vines grow ! 
There 's where the song-birds plumed so 

neatly, 
Unwritten music warble sweetly, 
Charming the ear and the heart completely. 
Come, to the woods let us go. 

There 's where the grand old river marches ; 
Thgre 's where the grape-vines weave green 
arches ; 
There 's where the wild flowers grow. 



GOME TO THE WOODS. 

They the rambler's sweet reward are, 
Scattered aloug bj the river's border, 
And far away in rich disorder, 
Come, to the woods let us go. 

There 's where the air is light and balmy ; 
There 's where your cares are stolen from ye, 

And raised are your spirits low ; 
Til ere you are robbed of trouble and sor- 
row, 
ISTor will you lind o'er much to-morrow. 
Unless you are foolish enough to borrow ; 

Come, to the w^oods let us go. 



80 



NOVEMBER. 



^mmhx. 





OVEMBER comes to mako 
Its annual visit ; 
i" The blue waves of the lake, 

With hoarse roar dash and break, 
While their light spray- wreaths take 

All hues exquisite. 



A low and muffled tone 

Rings from the fountains, 
And where the breezes moan, 
A robe — November's own — 
Of sober hue, is thrown 
Around the mountains. 



NO VSMBER. 81 

The fields, sborn of their crops, 

Look brown and sterile ; 
Piecemeal the burden drops 
From bending hickory tops. 
As round among them hops 

The nimble squirrel. 

Down through the meadow goes, 

With noisy laughter. 
The brook which overflows 
Next month, and will be froze, 
As every school-boy knows, 

A short time after. 



The grove and grape-vine s ving, 

Are now forsaken ; 
The birds there wont to sing, 
In summer and in spring. 
Away on rajjid wing 

Their fliirht have taken. 



82 NO VEMBER. 

The orchard boughs have shed 

Their burden mellow. 
Tlie corn is harvested, 
The chestnut burs are dead, 
And all the leaves are red, 
And brown, and yellow. 



Each air-boat with light sail, 

Has left the thistle ; 
Dead leaves float on the gale, 
And by the woody vale 
The solitary quail 

Has ceased to whistle. 

The winds that chilly blow, 

Are sadly humming. 
Telling in accents low, 
"What each one dreads to know. 
That with his ice and snow, 

Old Winter's cominir. 



NOVEMBER. 83 

And as its murky vail 

The faturc slow lifts, 
"We seem to bear the wail 
Of winds freighted with hail, 
And catch the outlines pale, 

Of storms and snow-drifts. 



84 J/r MOTHER, 



Pa §i»)thw. 



-J HERE 'S mellow music in the sound 
Kj That 'minds me of the one who 
Q^X round 

cj My infant form her arms entwined 
Protectingl J, ere yet my mind 
Knew to be thankful, or my weak, 
Untutored tongue its thanks could speak. 



'Twas she who held with constant care, 
Above ray brow the shield of prayer, 
When first I wandered forth and played 
With mates beneath the cooling shade, 
For fear the tempter might begin 
To tempt my youthful heart to sin. 



3ir MOTHER. 85 

'Twas slie who when I older grew, 
Showed me the path which to pursue 
Would wisest be, and lead me straight 
Through honor's pearl and silver gate, 
And to a rest at close of life, 
Eeyond this field of worldly strife. 



And to repay her love for me. 

Shall all my care in future be, 

I'll spend my years of manhood's strength 

To smooth her path, and when at length 

My eyes grow dark in death's eclipse. 

Her name shall last be on my lips. 



86 TWILIGHT ON THE POTOMAC. 




©tviligbt m Wxt f otomat 



HE day is past, the sun has cast 
P On earth his last long glances, 
And from afar night's gloomy car. 
Led by a star, advances. 

Potomac's breast now lies at rest, 
No foamy vest o'erspreads it, 

Though shakes almost, the tent-clad coast, 
Beneath the host that treads it. 



With much of din great guns begin 

To thunder in tlie distance. 
Where traitors learn their fate, and turn. 

Meeting a stern resistance. 



TWILIGHT ON THE POTOMAC. 87 

With martial sound the hills resound, 
For druiDS all round are beating, 

And bugles bray, near and away, 
And troops obey, retreating. 



But ere the night has vanished quite. 
And morning light is pouring, 

The foe may come, and bullets hum, 
And throats now dumb be roaring. 



And eyes now quite as clear and bright 
As sides when light is breaking. 

May softly close in death's repose, 
That sleep which knows no waking. 



88 SHE WAS EIGHT AND I WAS TEN. 



'he uui^ ^igiit iturt g iiui.ci Sen. 




NE sweet name 1*11 ne'er forget, 
In a mystic frame 'tis set, 
And occupies a place apart 
(a In one corner of my heart ; 
Til at dear name is Laura Lee, 
And 'twill e'er be sweet to me, 
Thongli I parted with her wlien 
She was eiirlit and I was ten. 



Oft togetlier we have played, 
AVeaving garlands in the sliade ; 
Running np and down tlie hill, 
B}" the bruok that turned the mill ; 



SHE WAS EIGHT AND I WAS TEN. 89 

Gazing in the water clear, 
While its music we could hear 
Einging sweetly out, for then 
She was eight and 1 was ten. 

When we wished to cross the stream, 
Glancing in the morning beam, 
On our way to a neighbor's cot, 
1 could wade but she could not ; 
So what could I do, kind sir. 
But wade through and carry her? 
And 1 did so, often, when 
She was eight and I was ten. 

When the winter snow was deep, 
And the growing drifts were steep. 
Seated on my little sled, 
While the others ran ahead, 
Her to school I often drew, 
And then home when school was thro' ; 
And 'twas all, remember, when 
She was eis-ht and I was ten. 



90 SHE WAS EIGHT AND I WAS TEN. 

Oh ! we were a bappy pair, 
As such children always are ; 
And had I been asked to say, 
"When engaged in merry play. 
Whether I'd live always so, 
Or, if I would older grow. 
Should have wished all life as when 
She was eight and I was ten. 

But, alas ! it could not be ; 
Soon she was removed from me ; 
Years o'er both our heads have rolled, 
Dark'ning some our locks of gold ; 
But she lives in memory yet. 
Her sweet face I'll ne'er forget. 
Though 1 parted with her when 
She was eiijht and I was ten. 



JUSTICE. 91 



%\\^\m. 




)WAS eve, and the moonlight and 
O starliglit 

Came down on the wavelets 
asleep, 
As soft as the breath of an angel 

On the sad hearts of mourners who weep. 
» 

The light breeze, which scarce seemed in 
motion 

O'er valleys and hills in repose, 
Went burdened with nigtingale music 

And the odors of locust and rose. 



92 JUSTICE. 

When down where the lake's gentle pulses 
To the breeze-hjmn beat time on the 
shore, 

A young pair of whispering lovers 
Made vows to be true evermore. 

'Twas late when they parted with blessings, 
And low beat each sorrowing lieart ; 

And a stray moon-beam flashed on his 
sword 
As the weeping youth turned to depart. 

Since then the cold storm-breath of winter 
Has the forest robe torn and laid low ; 

And the apple-tree boughs in the orchard. 
Have gloried in purple and snow. 

And far off in green Carolina, 

There 's a grave with no monument o'er ; 
And another is down by the lake side, 

Wbere the wave-pulses beat on the shore. 



JUSTICE. 03 

lie was slain hy the sword of a traitor, 
When the sun in the heavens shone low ; 

And tlie by the words in the message 
Whicli told of the innrderons blow. 

And the angel who weighed out the gUiry 

To each one, for sacrifice duo, 
Let the quantities balance each other, 

And equally smiled on the two. 



94: LINES WITH A BOUQUET. 



^§\\m W\\\\ w §0wquct» 



To Miss F. N- 




ROPS of dew ere long will twinkle 

In the wild woods' budding bowers ; 
Soon the merry bob-o'-link '11 
Make his silver song-bells tinkle, 
And the hand of Spring will sprinkle 
All the wakino; earth with flowers. 



Let this bunch of scentful glories, 
With their lips of varied hue, 

Whisper most delightful stories 
Of those coming days to you. 



Of the wild brook's joyous laughter, 
As its waters downward pour, 

Each bright wave pursuing after 
Those that took the leap before. 



LINES WITH A BOUQUET. 05 

Of tlic mnsic rich and teiulcr, 
Melting through the balmy air, 

And the gems of starry splendor, 
In the sunset's golden hair. 



This is but a glimpse beforehand, 
Of the glory soon to be ; 

But a foam-crest on the shore-land 
Of the swelling floral sea. 



As the tidal wave that brought it, 
Cast it on the snow-clad beach, 

Out I sprang, o'erjoyed, and caught it, 
As it lay there just in reach. 

Long 1 stood and gazed upon it, 
And I heard,—" This trophy send, 

With the spray of odor on it, 
To thy best and fairest friend." 



06 LINES WITH A BOUQUET. 

Thus were you made riglitf'iil owner, 
Take it then, nor doubtini^ stand ;— 

You can hardly deem me donor, 
For, you see, 'tis by command. 

Aj>ril 2, ISGtt. 



hV THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 97 



gu Wu f ulkjj, #vvv %\\txt. 



[^ AM sittiug on the bordel- 
lo Of a river deep and wide ; 
fe) I am gazing on the landscape 
*^ That is on the other side ; 
I can see the Hash and gliunner 

Of the water-falls and streams, 
And the tinted woods all shining 

In, the sunset's ruddy beams ; 
But one spot in vain I look for — 

Spot beloved and passing fair — 
It lies just beyond the woodland, 
In the valley, over there. 
9 



98 IN THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 

1 have seen wild brooks meaDcler, 

Where tjjie willows bent above, 
And the sun-beams dancing through them, 

Kissed the waves' white lips in love. 
I have seen theiii shine and sparkle 

Through the viny groves abroad, 
While upon their grassy borders, 

Bloomed the wild-flower thoughts of God ; 
But no brook, howe'er it charmed me, 

For a moment seemed so fair, 
As the brook that sings all summer. 

In the valley, over there. 



I have gazed on rural dwellings, 
Twined with blooming vines about. 

Where like bright eyes seemed the windows, 
Through green lashes glancing out, 

While the breezes, ne'er delighted 
With so fair a scene before, 



LV THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 99 

Lingered sj)orting 'moiig the blossoms, 
That were sprinkled round the door ; 

But I never saw a dwelling, 
In the wide world anywhere, 

That could match the gothic cottage, 
In the valley, over there. 



I have seen the northern maiden 

Trip the green fields lightly o'er, 
With her cheeks' hue only equalled, 

By the rose-bud wreath she wore. 
I have seen the southern beauty, 

On her moss-grown arbor seat. 
And from 'mong the long, dark lashes. 

Caught her languid glances sweet ; 
But I ne'er have seen a maiden, 

With such mild yet queenly air, 
As the maid who?e graces charmed me, 

Jn the valley, over there. 



100 AV THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 

Often wlien tlie breeze was sleepinj^, 

And the branches ceased to stir, 
I have watched the little rain-bow, 

O'er the water-fall with her ; 
And wlien light gave place to dai'kncss. 

And the twinkling star-lamps shone, 
'Mid the evening's dewy splendors, 

"VVe have wandered foith alone. 
And among the flowers full often, 

At the time of evening prayer. 
Have we both knelt down too-ether. 

In the valley, over there. 



But when antnnm's magic jiencil, 
Tinted all the trees last year. 

And the water-fall's clear music 
Tinkled sweetly on the ear. 

And the leaves began to settle. 
With a melancholy sonnd, 



IN THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 101 

From the zephjr-shaken branches 

Of the forest to the ground, 
Down at morn there came an angel ; 

Back at eve returned a pair ; 
And a shadow darkly settled 

In the valley, over there. 



And as often now I linger, 

'Mid the scenes I used to love, 
Climbs my heart upon her memory, 

Toward her dwelling place above, 
And the breezes, wandering sadly, 

'Mong the russet, gold, and flame 
Of the fields and waving woodlands. 

Seem to murmur forth her name, 
As they whisper to the willows, 

Bending downward through the air, 
Toward the green mound and the marble, 

In the valley, over there. 



102 VOLNEY. 




IS lamp of life was scarcely lit, 
Ere death came and extinguished it ; 
One winter's storm, one summer's 
bloom, 
Lay 'twixt his cradle and his tomb. 

,As though one rav of light at dawn, 
Might flash on earth and then be gone, 
And darkened leave the whole extent. 
Just so his presence came and went. 



As though a star to liglit our track. 

Were sent from heaven and straiglit called 

back, 
Just so his bright and cheering smile, 
Shone round us for a little while. 



VOLNEY. 103 

Just as a bird with merry tune, 
Upon a sunny morn in June, 
Appears and then recedes from view, 
With pinions fringed with silver dew. 



So he, with bright wings unrevealed. 
Which all too soon to yon fair field, 
Where echoing songs harmonious roll, 
Wafted away his stainless soul. 



lOi SOLDIER'S EVENING PRAYER. 




She ^^Idicv'us (Evcuiug f viipv. 



JOWN beside the winding river, 
Just a little way from camp, 
Undisturbed by war's wild music, 
Drum-beat, bugle-blast, or tramp ; 
Floating out through boughs, and grape- 
vmes, 
Hanging tangled in the air, 
Came the low and earnest accents 
Of a soldier's evening prayer. 

" Give us victory, oh. Father ! 

Let this prayer in faith addressed — " 
But the booming of a cannon 

In the distance drowned the rest ; 



SOLDIER'S EVENING PRAYER. 105 

And the drums' tiiinultuous rumble, 
And the bugles' wrathful blare, 

Mingled with the last, low murmurs 
Of the soldier's evening prayer. 

Soon in line was formed the army ; 

" Forward I" sternly sounded out ; 
Forth they moved and met the traitors, 

Charged upon them with a shout, 
And the mighty God of battles, 

Guiding on 'mid crash and glare, 
Gave them victory in answer 

To the soldier's evening prayer. 



106 m MEMORIAAL—F. B. W. 



%\\ ptmaviinir-J. 




-HEN the showers began to sparkle, 

In the zephyr's balmy track, — 
When the Spring was sowing roses, 
And the birds were coming back ; 
Fled her free and happy spirit, 

Through its broken prison bars. 
From her home among the mountains, 
To her home beyond the stars. 



I am mourning in the shadow ; 

She is singing in the light ; 
I am waiting for the angel 

That has called her out of sight 



m MEMORIAM.—F. B. W. 107 

I can almost hear the music 

Of her happy voice above ; 
In my soul I feel the sunshine, 

Of her melting glance of love. 

To the place where she is sleeping, 

In the summer time I'll go. 
And I'll plant her grave with roses, 

For she loved the roses so, 
And the birds will come and linger 

In the willows by her tomb, 
Mingling music with the odor 

Of the roses' dewy bloom. 



108 ''PEACE, BE still:' 



" f (a«, §f mv 



r^O ! the ship is moving slowly 

From the shore ; 
^^^^^^ It a freight more pure and holy 
^ Never bore. 



Mournfully the winds are sighing 
O'er the deep ; 

But the weary Master 's lying, 
Fast asleep. 

Storm clouds soon begin to lower, 
Thick and dark. 

And the tempest in its power, 

Heaves the bark 



"PEACE, BE still:' 109 

Soon is heard the tbnnder's fn'o-lifnino: 
Echoes drend, 

And doth hiss the forked lightning, 
Over head. 



They 're by billoM's swelling under 
Hurled amain, 

And the cords are snapped asunder 
By the strain. 



Until fearing wild disaster, 

Lo, they flee, 

Crying, searching, "V/here 's the Master! 
AVhere is He !" 



And while still the vessel 's leaping, — 

Spreading fear, 
Answer comes, — "The Master's sleeping. 
Quiet here." 
10 



110 'TEACE, BE still:' 

" Oh ! awake Him, then, awake Him ;"- 
And they shrink, 

" For the billows wild are breaking, 
And we sink !" 



Mildly rising from his pillows. 
As a child, 

Gazed He on the roaring billows, 
Calm and mild. 



Spake He then to storm and ocean,-— 
" Peace, be still !" 

And they ceased their wild commotion 
At His will. 



Clouds and billows ceased to wrestle^ 
"Wrapped in spray, 

And a light breeze bore the vessel 
On its way. 



BATTLE HYMN. Ill 



Suttlc pumit 




^,- E 'VE left onr dear homes and the 




^^ ^'^ loved ones behind ns, 

Tlie hnsband his wife and the 
lover his maid, 
And taken the post by our country assio;ned 
us, 
To wield to defend her the red battle 
blade ; 
So for death we '11 prepare and all danger 

will dare, 
As we march on to battle, and when wo 

are there. 
Together we 'Jl fight and the victory gain, 
Or together we '11 die on the red battle 
plain. 



12 BATTLE HYMN. 

War's crimson billows are rolling and 
bounding, 
And hui'ling their spray to the storm- 
si lakeu sky ; 
The chargers are neighing, the cannons are 
sonnding, 
And smoke- wreaths are angrily wheeling 
on high ; 
Then let ns away withont farther delay, 
And when by our captain w^o 're led to the 

fray, 
Together we 'II fight and the victory gain, 
Or together we '11 die on the red battle 
plain. 



LAU OUTER. lis 



^ituflht^v. 




|HE smile is the bud of the full-blown 
laughter, 

The bud comes first and the bloom 
comes after ; 
Down in the heart there 's a genius lingers, 
With feathery ends to his tickling fingers, 
And somewhere there, tho' few would sup- 
pose it. 
Is a ticklish spot and tlie genius knows it ; 
He \ a funny chap, too ; yes, ^^r^^ very, 
And when he 's awake ho is always merry ; 
lie tickles the spot whenever he pleases, 
And sometimes ticklea away diseases ; 
10* 



114 LA UOHTER. 

He 's death on the bluos and opposed to 

leanness, 
And flies from the heart that is given to 

meanness, 
And in the heart which desertion doth 

suffer. 
The ticklish spot grows tougher and 

tougher, 
Till after a while it is perfectly callous, 
And the victim 's a subject half fit for the 

gallows. 
The tear-tide of sorrow will frequently swell 

tho', 
And threaten to drown the poor, innocent 

fellow. 
And this thing and that he keeps jumping 

up on to. 
Till he 's furced to clear out tho' perhaps he 

don't want to, 
"When thus one' s deserted I can't but admit 

he 



LAUGHTER. 115 

Is fully deserving of comfort and pity ; 
And then in the world I have come across 

many, 
Who 'vc no ticklish spot, and who never 

had any ; 
Their natnres are sour as would be a barrel 
Of the double-distilled quintessence of sor- 
rel, 
Boiled down till the sour of that wdiole 

amount is 
Contained in a vial that won't liold three 

ounces ; 
Whoever they meet they seem ready to 

grapple, 
And their faces resemble a frozen thawed 

apple. 
From the lot of such miserly, mean, sour, 

small things. 
Deliver my body, soul, conscience and all 

things ; 
I 'd rather be nibbled to death by mus- 

keeters, 



116 LA UGIITER. 

Or any other species of liuman kind eaters, 
Than carry about on my comitenance daily, 
A frown that knocks down like a Paddy's 

shillelah. 
Some fancy it is the external surroundings 
That tickle one more than internal abound- 

ings, 
But I knew a man once who an hour and 

a half sat, 
Laughing and laughing with nothing to 

laugh at. 
And once on a time I saw my uncle Sam'el 
Laugh, with his eyes shut as tight as a clam 

shell ; 
No sound was heard, even the jingle of 

money. 
And nothing was said that was anyways 

funny, 
lint the smiles kept coming out thicker and 

thicker, 
Until they passed into a kind of a snicker, 



LA UG TITER. 117 

And tlien from .1 snicker tlio}' burst out in 

laughter, 
And I went away and caine back awhile 

after, 
Ai:d as tho' something had of his reason 

bereft him. 
He was laughing as hard as he was when I 

left him. 
You wlio pay it 's an external something 

that does it, 
If that wa' n't an internal something, what 

was it? 
The genius hears things that I have n't a 

doubt of, 
Tho eyes, too, I fancy he sometimes peeps 

out of; 
1 can not believe he 's a blind, deaf, or 

dumb thing. 
He hears something, sometimes, and some- 
times sees something. 
And when its a something whicli pleases 

him really, 



118 LA UGHTER. 

He makes you laugh harder by tickling 

more freely. 
It 's a thing which it 's well to indulge in 

quite often, 
The spirits to raise and the temper to soften, 
But fearing your patience I 'm trespassing 

on to, 
ril stop liere and let you all laugh if you 

want to. 



THE KISS THAT MY LO VE GA VE ME. 119 




®h^ |>i,5sss that mij §ovt t\m§\t 



HEN I heard on the morning 
breeze the sound 
p§y<3; Of the bugles's martial tone, 
C^ Full soon were my farewells whis- 
pered around, 
And my gun on my shoulder thrown ; 
And I hastened to join in the war's wild 
storm, 
Where the crimson tide flowed free, 
"While my heart was sad, for my lips were 
warm 
With the kiss that my love gave me. 



120 THE KISS THAT JIY LOVE GA VE ME. 

Aud now when the shock of battle comes, 

'Mid the clouds of rolling gloom ; 
And the tramp is heard, and the roll of 
drums, 

And the cannon's deep-toned boom, 
It will nerve mj arm with a double might. 

To strike for the brave and free, 
To think, in the midst of the raging fight, 

Of the kiss that my love gave me. 

And when I shall lie on the crimson sand. 

With a wound in vaj bosom deep. 
And the cold, red blade in my unnerved 
hand. 

Which the harvest of death helped reap ; 
I will feel tiie snapjiing of life's last link, 

With a heart from gloom all free. 
And close my eyes with a smile, as I think 

Of the kiss tliat my love gave me. 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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